


Doomed, Really

by MmeLutece



Category: Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: but edited an oc for it, pretty much this is a vent fic, will update warnings as needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 15:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18968128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MmeLutece/pseuds/MmeLutece
Summary: A girl wakes up in Doom Manor and struggles to come to terms with her new life she must live.





	Doomed, Really

In her dreams, she plays an acoustic guitar in a sunlit bedroom. She hears the tune from it and it _feels_ like a happy time, but the tune fades to allow yelling voices to reach her ears along with the sound of crashing ceramic.

In another moment, she’s remembering gardening with her mother outside, dog laying happily in the sun beside them, before a truck pulls in the driveway and a man get out who she recognizes as her father.

Another, and she’s on a boat on river shaded by overhanging trees – a girl smiles to her from beside her and leans over to kiss her, throwing a blanket over the both of them.

 

 

“Seventeen...years?” Brenna questions the man who’d introduced himself as Niles. She was still groggy from waking up and confused. It also didn’t help that her head was _pounding_. “I was in that … pod thing … for seventeen years?”

She was dressed in a graphic tank depicting a once-popular band and her baggy dark jeans, standard 2000s wear that Niles had managed to find for her. It made her feel at least a bit like herself, even if she clearly wasn’t anymore.

“That is correct.” Niles confirms, “Brenna, how much do you remember?”

“Bits and pieces – nothing much. It’s all just flashes.” She frowns, trying to remember something -- _anything_. She remembers running until she hit the edge of a cliff. She lost her balance and fell, “Where’s my mom? Does she think I’m dead?”

The thought itself makes the plant-like appendages that were her arms and legs start to grow more and more, reaching to the ground. They did this when she got over-emotional, she’d realised, but didn’t know _why_ yet. All she knew was that it annoyed her, but nonetheless she tries to keep herself calm as she can, and they cease their growth.

“While we help you through this, it’s best you stay here.” he says. Brenna is about to object before the door slides open, causing her to startle, “I assure you, you will have a network of support here for you who’ve gone through…similar changes.”

Even if the way he says it makes her _believe_ him and calm down more, she still has questions. She’s about to ask one when the door opens, startling her, to reveal a woman dressed elegantly, smiling to her.

“Ah! Brenna, this is Rita. She _insisted_ on showing you around the manor.”

 

She’s not given much chance to object before she’s whisked off with the woman.

 

A man in a wheelchair, a robot, a man covered in bandages, and … a lady who, she said, turned into some kind of blob. Those were the people she’d been introduced to so far, and she was happy Rita had – rather enthusiastically – done most of the talking. Even as Brenna was asked about her hobbies and interests, Rita managed to make a full conversation out of it. Niles couldn’t have let a person more _different_ from her show her around, she thought, though she silently admires how the woman seems to radiate confidence and beauty.

“It’s so _lovely_ to have another young lady around here.” Rita says dotingly as she shows the newest member of their little group of misfits around the manor, “I swear, there’s so much testosterone around here, sometimes it’s hard to even breath.”

Brenna, herself, is quiet as she’s shown around, not being much of a _people person_ like Rita apparently was – even though she supposed none of them were exactly _people_. She does laugh a bit at the woman’s comment, though.

“Thank you for showing me around, Rita. I appreciate the welcome, but I guess … I’d kind of like to be alone right now. To process things.” she says nervously, “It’s not you, really.”

Rita frowns, but nods, “I understand, Brenna. This is all still new to you. We can always chat another time.”

Brenna gives a shaky nod and Rita leaves her alone.

Alone in the halls, Brenna takes a moment to collect herself, sitting down and leaning against the wall. _She wanted her mom_. She was in a house full of strangers with a body she no longer understood and she was scared.

Looking at her hands, she also realises that she’ll likely never get to do many things with them anymore, as they either were very _inhuman_ or had a mind of their own, it seemed, like now as they stretch out in reaction to her heightened emotions. She closes her eyes and hums a tune, the same tune that she’d remembered playing on her guitar, and soon enough they’re back to normal--or at least what _normal_ was for them now.

She gets up with a groan, cursing the new stiffness of her joints, and explores more of the manor, eventually finding her way outside. She lets out a genuine smile, feeling the fresh air, and happily walks about, attention almost immediately grabbed by the bus in the driveway – big, yellow, not something you can exactly miss – so she walks towards it curiously, examining the outside. She sees plants of various kinds through the windows and stands on the tips of her toes to get a better view.

 

“Looking for something specific?” a voice questions from behind her. She jumps, startled to see the bandaged man Rita had introduced her to before – Larry, was it?

“Oh, I, uh, just saw the plants. I use—I used to garden a lot.” Brenna says.

“Huh,” Larry nods, “At least someone appreciates it.” He approaches her, standing beside her, “You know, if it helps you…adjust…you could come by whenever you want. The help might be nice.”

The girl cracks a small smile, “Maybe I will.” She nods.

“Anyway, I think Rita was cooking dinner. Should almost be done -- wanna go in?”

“Nah,” she shakes her head, “I’ve…not really got an appetite right now.”

Larry, under his bandages, gives a somewhat worried look, but he knows he can’t force the situation, “Alright. Well, if you change your mind, we’ll all be in the kitchen, and there will be leftovers in the fridge – Rita will insist.”

“Thank you.” Brenna says, quickly, before turning away to go into the manor again.

She goes through the winding halls until she reaches the room she _thinks_ is hers – thankfully, she’s correct – to flop down on the bed. The feel of bark and leaves against her hand as she lays on the pillow is foreign, and she lets herself wallow in self-pity until, chlorophyll tears leaking from her eyes.

 _Tomorrow is a new day_ , she thinks, _maybe this is all a dream_.

An unrestful sleep takes hold of her and she can only dream of vines suffocating her.

**Author's Note:**

> My friend said this was alright to post but I'm still not totally sure.  
> Comments and/or future editing would be appreciated <3  
> Reach me on Tumblr: the-cards-say-shut-up.tumblr.com


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